


Burning at the Climb

by Syorein



Series: AU Galore [1]
Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: And angst, GET WHUMPED BITCHES, Gen, HC galore, Ooc bigger than my ass, Vague mentions of violence as of now
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-02-21
Updated: 2017-02-26
Packaged: 2018-09-26 01:03:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,372
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9855188
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Syorein/pseuds/Syorein
Summary: Kageyama Tobio doesn't know what to do with himself anymore.(Burnt Hands AU)





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [SierraClefairy](https://archiveofourown.org/users/SierraClefairy/gifts).



> based off of: http://sierraclefairy.tumblr.com/post/156951903594/burn-hands-au
> 
> I did this all in one shot
> 
> It looks choppy
> 
> But whatever

At first it starts off slowly, just a few hints here and there.

It doesn't really bother him, because it's about the equivalent of burning off his fingerprints—which has been done by a criminal apparently, his brother, Akito, said so before—and his seniors are left satisfied.

But then it starts escalating.

Burns at his fingertips start evolving to burns on his hands, and sometimes it climbs around the back of his wrist, it's scarring and he sees it.

But it's happening so slowly.

Kageyama doesn't even realize it's a problem until Kindaichi starts commenting on his continuously increasing amount of bandages around his hands. They weave around his hands— _he remembers a time when they were soft and delicate and when he was unmarred by the truth of reality_ —and they nearly bind all his fingers together in his effort to hide them from sight.

It was such a slow process between him and his seniors—and it's no one's problem — _Kunimi, there's nothing wrong with his hands_ —Kageyama doesn't notice it's anything except the one day he looks at a photo collection with his mother and Akito.

Akito makes an offhand comment about how Tobio used to flash his hands around like trophies at every volleyball game he attended, and Kageyama looks at himself for the first time.

He feels a rush of air leave his chest when he actually looks at it.

His hands are so— _different_.

Who's hands are those?

Kageyama barely believes that it's his.

Those unscarred, beautiful, and clear hands _aren't_ his.

They _can't_ be.

He barely leaves the room in one piece.

His footsteps are thundering up the stairs, he's ignoring the calls of his mother, and Akito is behind him every step of the way—but Kageyama doesn't know who that person's reflection is when he looks into the mirror.

This haggard person, who has dark circles enough to last a lifetime, and dead, dead eyes who look nothing like the twin image who is standing right behind him—

And Akito is on him in seconds, but Kageyama doesn't understand why—he doesn't understand what is going on, why is Akito hugging him?

When did they get on the ground?

He's cocooned in lanky form of his brother, and he doesn't know why this is so until he tries to reciprocate that hug.

His hands.

His _hands_.

They are burnt and marred, and ugly and useless in a volleyball game. Who would want a setter with such undesirable hands? They are marked by people, they very same people who had been on the same side of the court as him—

And he can't see all of a sudden, it seems.

His eyes are swimming, and what—?

Kageyama can barely see anything but his marred and darkly uneven hands, the colors are swirling in his vision, and then he sees black.

His head is shoved into the collarbone of his brother's and then everything comes back with clarity.

Images of that fire, yellow and red and burning and burning and burning until everything turns dark, the colors of a pale canvas turning into a grotesque art that's pieces will never fit together because they are nothing compared to that soft and pale skin that once was—

Kageyama can barely breathe, but that's okay.

Akito is busy whispering at him and stroking his hair, and he's such a good brother, because Kageyama would be nothing without him right now.

He wants to feel indignant and the cuddling session, but he's so drained, and he's still trying to catch his breath that he doesn't care.

Kageyama doesn't want to see those marred hands right now— _or ever_ —but he's long shed that childish naivety for realism, and that was an unrealistic wish.

Akito is a good brother though, he's good and lovely and such a great person—so he doesn't let Kageyama see his hands now.

He tucks his head under his chin, keeping his hand firmly on the back of Kageyama's head on this dark bathroom floor.

He's still whispering and muttering, and Kageyama thinks it's unfair how he's older but Akito is the one comforting him, but Kageyama is a realist.

Life is just unfair that way.

And his hands _show_ it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I can't believe I wrote this at midnight
> 
> I told myself I would repair my eyes by not writing shit at nighttime in the dark at ungodly hours of night
> 
> But look at me now
> 
> Honestly I'm almost legally blind at this point
> 
> I shouldn't be doing this


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> YOU WILL NOT BE LIEVE HOW MANY TIMES I SCRAPPED THIS
> 
> Also implied self harm?
> 
> Maybe implied,
> 
> Idk it just happens

Kageyama stands nervously in front of the gym's doors.

They seem to tower over him, like insurmountable mountains. Those metal doors that are shut closed, a melding of his fear and hopes—with dreams of volleyball that hold it together.

The squeaking sound of sneakers crawl outside and it makes him want to run.

He doesn't like this place.

It reminds him of all those times that he was submitted to the fanning flames that now leave darkened patches all over his skin.

Veins of ashy black spiral around the edges of his white— _pristine white like skin_ —bandages, thin and weary, as he himself is.

It's like nothing else matters but the terrible tingles in his hand—he wraps his hands around each other, massaging, if only _to get rid of the tingling_ —and Kageyama hates how exhausted he feels.

His shoulders feel heavy, like a million rocks are piled upon him. He's tired and he doesn't even want to be here anymore.

The feeling is foreboding and dark—and he won't lie—he wants to cry at the thought of returning to this hellhole.

This feeling makes him clench his fist, because he is being weak now.

_He's supposed to be better than this._

The doors open and Kageyama freezes.

His heart is pounding a thousand beats, thumping and stealing his breath like a waterfall.

_He can't let anyone see him like this._

Clumsily— _barely_ —letting out a breathless apology, he turns away and nearly trips over his own feet to get away from that place in his haste.

Ignoring the faint call behind him—everything is muffled and he can't hear—he runs with all the empty air inside him.

 _Outoutout_ —

He needs to get _out_.

Kageyama doesn't know where he's going or what he's going to do, but all he knows as he dashes out the school gates is that he wants to leave.

His hands are prickling— _stabbing_ —him.

It's a sharp pain that feels like millions of needles are imbedded in his hands, and he gasps as he tears the bandages—white, _so white_ —

The speed of which he's ripping off his bandages is so furious that he doesn't see anything but white, and he's breathing so fast that he can't breathe.

Can't breathe.

_Air._

He _needs—_

Everything goes dark.

_That seems to be happening a lot lately._

Kageyama wakes up at dusk.

He wakes up to bloodied arms, stained bandages, and dried blood crusted underneath his fingernails in a dark alleyway barely lit by one streetlight.

Steadying himself in the alleyway, he clutches at the bandages and goes home.

The streetlight flickers and Kageyama pretends that he can't see the red scabs on his wrist.

* * *

He goes to school the next day, much to Akito's _immense_ displeasure.

_"You should stay home."_

_"I'll be fine."_

_"I could sit on you and force you to stay."_

_"You could, but you won't."_

Kageyama tries hard to blend into the masses of people when he spots Oikawa-san and Iwaizumi-san walking into school together. 

People glance awkwardly at him at him as he squishes himself between a couple.

They walk past without seeing him.

 _Thank god_.

He doesn't know what he would do if they spotted him.

A confrontation to why he was absent yesterday?

That wouldn't go well.

Kageyama can almost imagine the two of them staring down at him and the very thought makes him want to cringe away.

Letting out a quick, and stilted, apology to the couple he interrupted, Kageyama heads into school.

He takes a detour, and narrowly misses Kindaichi as he runs to his locker.

Kageyama walks past the courtyard, to avoid everyone else crowded around the hallways, and spots the gym.

He glances at those metal doors once again— _ignoring the cold feeling inching up the back of his neck_ —

He doesn't know when that place started becoming a place he dreaded coming to instead of a place of sanctuary for his passions.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ALSO IM SORRY SIERRA BUT I REALIZED HOW SLOW BURN THIS IS ALL GOING TO BE SO KARASUNO AINT HAPPENIN UNTIL WAAAAAY OFF


End file.
